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James Rives Apr 23
i am so deeply unsatisfied in my life
and too mired in my failings
to appreciate imagery and sound.
something reached deep in me,
scooped color from my innards,
and left me to rot.
living for spite is dreadfully boring.
  Feb 7 James Rives
hold my hand
so your thumb
can tap that beat
on my wrist
the one my heart
decided to keep
(Thanks for all the attention on this one everyone :), I'm glad you enjoy it.)
James Rives Dec 2021
why artists wrestle with a million thoughts
that aren’t original,
that still still seem fresh,
when this life is universal.
when we aren’t honest with ourselves
and the introspection kills us more
and more each time.
some stupid innate desire to do
and be better,
hindered by the rest of who we are.
even this is a cheap imitation of others
who’ve felt the same.
and the anger and lack of clarity consumes me.
i was always taught to show, not tell,
but words elude me when emotions don’t.
i may be a bad writer, but never say
I’m not passionate.
James Rives Dec 2021
in return
metallic again
James Rives Nov 2021
reaching what you feel is unlimited potential,
trusting that you’re the main character of
your story—
you’re disavowed by actuality.

there is more in believing, trying, doing—
you are love and light and concise metaphor.
sometimes salt-soaked irreverence
in the face of reality. Scraping,
laughing, yearning.
All that you’ve accomplished with a smile
and full heart is yours.
You are inadequate and whole.
  Oct 2021 James Rives
Chris Saitta
Thrums the bee waggle-dance in a haunt of Indian horsepaths,
Or the shaking leaf one second past the strike of galloping rain
/ Parsimonious lightning, thrifty in its jagged stalks
Against this night of heavy-hearted oaks /
Then the hay-fringed bale of sleep, rolled into a valley of slowed breathing,
Through parting cloud-diabolique, poison-peers the wet toadback of Autumn,
Glowing moon-gristle in the bosky wolf’s beard with its wireframe of teeth.
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